[Maia has always been easy to read, painfully so, and this situation is no different. In fact, it is perhaps more transparent, the way Maia's face changes when Csevet tells him, albeit in oblique terms, that he wishes to be friends. Maia's smile widens, how his grey eyes soften, how he lifts his hand to touch his hair, a gesture that is almost flirtatious, pleased and anxious at the same time.
Truly, that is a path Csevet knows better than to allow his mind to follow, and he ducks his head as if to avoid it, though he is still smiling slightly as Maia says he wishes for Csevet's happiness. His heart fluttering in his chest, Csevet notes the informal and tries to imagine using it in return as Maia most likely expects, and he's barely become accustomed to that thought, foreign and frightening and exciting all at once, before Maia is asking him to use his true name.
To call him Maia and not Serenity or Edrehasivar VII. A request, and not an order.
Lifting his chin, Csevet looks at Maia for a few moments, searching his face as if for some sign of deceit (though truly he knows that there will be no such sign, that deceit is not something Maia dabbles in or excels at) or something else, something he can't put words to. After a moment, he exhales, settles his slim hands on the edge of the table, and lowers his lashes slightly, looking at Maia through them.]
If that is what Serenity wishes... [A pause, a momentary, uncharacteristic hesitation-] ...then I will...I will call you Maia.
[It feels strange and awkward and wonderful on his lips, and Csevet immediately lowers his face, cheeks flushing bright pink, the tips of his ears going almost red but lifting slightly with his happiness and anxiety. Maia continues to speak while Csevet's head spins, leaves him almost dizzy with shock and pleasure, and when he looks up again, he's still smiling slightly, though he's composed himself a good deal.]
I suppose it would be best to fit in. I admit, finding appropriate clothing has been difficult. Everyone here seems to wear so much less than we...I am accustomed to, though it's so overwarm I can hardly blame them.
[It's a tentative foray into humour, the kind he shares with his casual friends among the servants and the couriers, and he watches Maia's face for any sign of displeasure at his flippancy. But, if Maia truly wishes to be friends, then Csevet will make an effort to speak to him as a friend, even if it's tentative, a little frightening.]
I have been given a job, Sere- [A pause.] Maia. A position in which I feel not at all ill-used, though I much preferred my position in the Alcethmeret, and quarters that are much like the dormitories I stayed in at times while I was a courier.
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Truly, that is a path Csevet knows better than to allow his mind to follow, and he ducks his head as if to avoid it, though he is still smiling slightly as Maia says he wishes for Csevet's happiness. His heart fluttering in his chest, Csevet notes the informal and tries to imagine using it in return as Maia most likely expects, and he's barely become accustomed to that thought, foreign and frightening and exciting all at once, before Maia is asking him to use his true name.
To call him Maia and not Serenity or Edrehasivar VII. A request, and not an order.
Lifting his chin, Csevet looks at Maia for a few moments, searching his face as if for some sign of deceit (though truly he knows that there will be no such sign, that deceit is not something Maia dabbles in or excels at) or something else, something he can't put words to. After a moment, he exhales, settles his slim hands on the edge of the table, and lowers his lashes slightly, looking at Maia through them.]
If that is what Serenity wishes... [A pause, a momentary, uncharacteristic hesitation-] ...then I will...I will call you Maia.
[It feels strange and awkward and wonderful on his lips, and Csevet immediately lowers his face, cheeks flushing bright pink, the tips of his ears going almost red but lifting slightly with his happiness and anxiety. Maia continues to speak while Csevet's head spins, leaves him almost dizzy with shock and pleasure, and when he looks up again, he's still smiling slightly, though he's composed himself a good deal.]
I suppose it would be best to fit in. I admit, finding appropriate clothing has been difficult. Everyone here seems to wear so much less than we...I am accustomed to, though it's so overwarm I can hardly blame them.
[It's a tentative foray into humour, the kind he shares with his casual friends among the servants and the couriers, and he watches Maia's face for any sign of displeasure at his flippancy. But, if Maia truly wishes to be friends, then Csevet will make an effort to speak to him as a friend, even if it's tentative, a little frightening.]
I have been given a job, Sere- [A pause.] Maia. A position in which I feel not at all ill-used, though I much preferred my position in the Alcethmeret, and quarters that are much like the dormitories I stayed in at times while I was a courier.